


This Path Is Reckless

by NarryEm



Series: One Direction Erotica/Fluff-fest/Wangst as written by EmilyY [6]
Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Coffee Shops, Eventual Smut, Fluff, M/M, POV First Person, Punk Niall, Roof Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-26
Updated: 2013-07-26
Packaged: 2017-12-21 10:03:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 17,363
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/899019
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NarryEm/pseuds/NarryEm
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Niall Horan.   Irish.  Blond, not so tall with medium build.  He has got piercings on his right eyebrow, ears, and his bottom lip.  Let’s not forget the tattoos that cover his right arm from shoulder down.  Some say that the tattoos and piercings are dead sexy, others say that the tattoos just brand him as a rebel without a cause.  As fate would have it, Niall doesn’t give a damn about what people say.  He has got that carefree attitude about him that a lot of girls and boys find hot.</p><p>  Harry Styles.  English.  Brunet with ‘curls that get the girls’(and sometimes guys).  Tall with medium build.  He has got some tattoos but he isn’t like covered with them.  He graduated with remarkable grades in A-levels and you could say that he has a bit of dorky side;  but he is one of those dorks who are also sexy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

_ **Harry's P.O.V.** _

 

 I’m not expecting much when I go to get my usual intake of caffeine at the café close to my flat. I walk into the building with one of my hands in my jean pocket, the other rearranging my hair after I give it a quick shake. I wait in the line and when it’s my turn to order, I do a double-take.

Standing behind the counter is Niall. As in The Niall that everyone in the neighbourhood has heard of. I know that Niall graduated a year before my own class but we have never crossed paths until now. I only know Niall by his reputation so yeah, I have never imagined that someone like Niall would work at a place as commonplace as a café. The blue uniform polo clings tightly to Niall’s torso and his tattoos are on full display. My eyes wander down, subconsciously checking out Niall’s profile. The blond is wearing a pair of black skinny jeans, which I think looks good on him. Okay, eyes up and behave! I scold myself, mentally slapping my cheeks.

After jolting out of my reverie, I stutter through my order. I blush hotly when I catch Niall smirking at me before walking away to make the coffee. It’s not that I’m embarrassed, per se; rather, I am simply attracted to Niall’s smirk. I mentally slap myself. Again. You are not attracted to the town’s resident bad boy, I tell himself sternly. But right at that moment, Niall returns, smiling again.

“Hey, Curly,” he says without preamble. “I’m off in ten minutes. Do you wanna hang out with me? Just hang, no catch.”

“Why?” I ask. As soon as the words leave my mouth, I curse myself silently. Who asks people why they wanna hang out? Idiot.

“Well, I’m not gonna lie, you’re pretty good-looking and I’m free this morning.” He winks. I blush for what feels like the tenth time in the last ten minutes. There is a twinkle in Niall’s ocean blue eyes and I like it.

“Okay,” I hear myself say.

“Great! See you in ten minutes, Harry!”

I nod and stroll to a random table. Only when I sit down do I realise that I haven’t told Niall my name.

 

How did he know then?

 

 

Exactly ten minutes later, Niall saunters over to the my table. He has changed into a grey t-shirt that clings to his upper body. “Hello again, Harry,” he greets. He sits down on the chair across me without asking for permission.

“How do you know my name?” I ask bluntly, throwing manners out the window.

“We did go to the same school, Harry. And let’s just say you were quite the star. Lots of people knew of you. Harry Styles, the young lad with a brilliant mind and equally good looks. How’d you not know that?” Niall laughs. The younger boy can feel warmth creeping up his cheeks again.

“I didn’t really pay attention to the word around school,” I mumble.

Niall leans in closer, close enough for his breaths on tickle my nose. “Sorry? I can’t make out what you’re saying when you mumble.”

 I repeat myself, silently asking myself why on Earth he agreed to hang out with Niall. What was it that drew me to the punk kid in the first place anyways? It couldn’t be the whole ‘opposites attract’ thing . . . could it? It might have been the way Niall smiles, the way his blue eyes sparkle . . . .

 

“Well, now you know,” Niall says cheekily. He then stands up. Beckoning at me, he says, “C’mon, Harry, let’s get out of here. Some fresh air will do us good.” Niall doesn’t give me much of choice because he reaches out to grab my hand. I glance at our joined hands; taking in the fact that Niall’s hand is smaller than my own yet stronger.

Niall leads me around the outside of the café where the employees park their cars. Or, in Niall’s case, motorcycle. I let out a low whistle when I see a black and green Honda CBR1000RR. While I’m not exactly a bike expert, I do have to admit that it’s one magnificent bike.

 

“You like?” Niall asks as we near the bike.

“Yeah,” I say. “Should have figured that you would drive one, eh?”

“What, do all ‘bad boys’ have to ride around on a motorbike?” Niall teases, handing me a spare helmet. Looking at my half-horrified expression, he says, “S’ not like I don’t know what people say about me, Harry. I like to party, drink, and get piercings and tattoos. I just like to have a good laugh and be happy, y’know. And if people don’t like it, they can shove it where the sun doesn’t shine. I couldn’t care less. Really.”

“I never really believed what people said about you,” I begin slowly. “All the rumours about you, erm, smoking and stuff. Uh, I just knew that you were, like, the rebel around here.”

Niall simply flashes a dazzling smile as a reply. He swings his leg over the seat. Putting on his own helmet and pets the space behind him. “Come on over here, Harry. Let’s take a ride around, shall we?” he says to me.

 

I seat himself behind Niall as instructed. I hesitate when I put my arms around Niall. It’s rather awkward when I finally do it. My arms aren’t really tight enough to be safe, I suppose. Chuckling, Niall places his hands over mine to tighten my arms around his waist. I barely suppress the appreciative gasp at the feel of Niall’s defined abs. Niall places both his hands back on the handle.

“Hold on tight, Harry,” Niall smirks as he revs the bike and kicks off the kickstand. Soon, the bike roars out of the parking lot.

Honestly, I’m scared crapless. This is the very first time I have got on a motorcycle. God, what if we crash into a random lamp post and we die from horrible road rash! Or bash my skull into a . . . My mind keeps running in circles, coming up with crazy scenarios.

When we arrive at our destination, Niall is the first to dismount. I seem to be frozen on my spot. Laughing softly again, Niall helps me get off the bike.

“First time? Don’t try to deny it, I could tell.”

 _Great, now he thinks I’m a wuss,_ I think in defeat.

Niall’s blue eyes twinkle with a mixture of mischief and something else. The blond takes a step closer until his and my chests are almost touching. “I think that was cute, you being nervous and all on the bike.” Niall has raised his hand so that he can stroke his thumb over my flushed cheek. I don’ miss it when Niall’s gaze flickers down to my lips. In another second, Niall’s lips press onto mine, the kiss as soft and light as a whisper. Niall pulls away after a long moment, smiling to himself.

“Take a walk with me? We’re close to Hyde Park.”

I reply, a bit dazed, “Yeah, I’d like that.”

I feel feels like I should say something. Niall has just kissed me, after all. But I doesn't want to. All I want at the moment is simply to be with Niall. This path I’ve chosen, whatever this is, it’s reckless and about as unpredictable as it gets.

 

But it’s Niall. Niall doesn’t seem like a stereotypical ‘punk kid’.

 

The walk is full of small talk and playful nudge wars. Niall keeps his arm tightly wrapped around my shoulders, which I find sweet and very un-bad boy. I lean into Niall’s arm and a couple of times, I nuzzles my hair into the crook of Niall’s arm.

 

 

-

 

 

 

“That was fun,” I comment as we return to Niall’s bike. “Erm, I can walk back to my flat, ‘s fine.”

“What kind of a gentleman would I be if I let you walk all alone?”

I relent and climb back on, gripping on to his slim hips.

 

The drive back to my flat is (sadly) less than ten minutes even with London’s notorious traffic.

 

“See you same time tomorrow?” Niall asks, cupping my cheek tenderly.

“Yeah. Gonna pick me up or should we meet somewhere.”

“I’ll be here around ten-ish. Bye, Haz.”

“Bye, Ni.”

 

We kiss a final goodbye. I unlock the door and walk in, still high from Niall’s kiss. There’s something about the way Niall kisses that makes me feel almost giddy. And wanted. Yes, definitely wanted.

 

 

For the first time in my life, I feel like I can go for it.

 

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

 

I wake up around half-nine. Memories from yesterday afternoon come back and I can’t help but grin like the fool he is. I kissed Niall. Or rather, he kissed me. Niall the bad boy and fittie. Oh great, I think. Now I sound like a schoolgirl who has a big crush on the senior guy. Okay, that’s kind of what is going on but still. I have long accepted that I’m gay, or at least bisexual but that doesn’t mean that I’m going to act like the gay stereotype anytime soon. At least, I hope he won’t.

 

Oh fuck, I think as I look at the clock again. I am nothing like Louis but I need more than twenty-eight minutes to look decent for a proper date with Niall today! I haven’t got a clue what sort of date requires that we meet way before acceptable lunchtime but maybe we are going out for brunch. Or something. Scrambling to get out of me bed, Harry runs around in my room, scrounging for an acceptable date outfit.

 

Twenty minutes later, I am dressed in a black Rolling Stones t-shirt (the one with a tongue sticking out of a mouth) and black skinny jeans. It’s probably chilly out so I take a grey blazer with him. My curly hair is as tamed as it’ll ever be—somehow persuaded to sweep neatly across my forehead and not sticking in all directions.

As I’m looking for shoes to wear, the doorbell rings.

“Fuck,” I curse. “I’ll be a minute!”

 

Forty-eight seconds later, I open the door with two mismatched Chuck Taylors held in my hands. Niall, decked out in a jean-leather jacket, red t-shirt and black jeans comes in with that familiar smirk on his face.

“Couldn’t decide which shoes to wear?” he asks, amusement clear in his voice.

 

I smile nervously. “Yeah, maybe.”

 

Niall takes a brief look at my flat. “This is quite a fancy flat you’ve got yourself here.”

I shrug. “My family’s wealthy. Hate to be that rich kid but hey do spoil me. They tried to buy me a freakin’ mansion but I drew the line there. Besides, I live by myself, don’t need three thousand square feet of leg space.”

A quick flash of something passes in Niall’s oceanic orbs. “Yeah, who would?”

 

Niall helps me find a pair of black Chucks and once that’s done (and after I stare at the reflection of my own hair for two minutes) we head out of my house. We find Niall’s bike parked pretty much right in front of the house.

 

“Eager to take me out, are you?” I tease.

“Or there was no other place to park. Your pick, Haz.”

“Nicknames already. I like it, Nialler.”

 

Niall throw me a quick smirk before hopping on his bike. “Hop on, Curly. Horan express is leaving in less than twenty seconds.”

I gulp in some air before I do as I’m told. Niall turns around to hand me a helmet. Well, handing is the wrong choice of word as he simply puts the helmet on top of my curls and fastens it for me. He leans in for a quick peck on the nose before sliding down the visor. (He doesn’t turn around before winking flirtatiously)

 

It turns out that my suspicions were right. Niall parks at the back of some diner and helps me off. Although it’s my second time, my knees are still wobbly upon getting off the bike; but maybe it’s because Niall’s hands were on my hips for longer than necessary.

 

The hostess’s eyes twinkle when she sees Niall. “Hey, Nialler,” she says fondly.

“Hi, Em. This is Harry, my friend. Harry, Em.”

“Nice to meet you,” I say politely.

“Likewise. Niall wouldn’t shu—”

 

Niall quickly slaps his hand over the raven-haired girl’s mouth. “Why don’t you be a good little hostess and show us out table, yeah?” I'm pretty sure that’s there’s a blush creeping up on Niall’s otherwise milky skin. Em laughs at Niall as she shows the almost couple to their seats. When Em sets the menu in front of Niall, the blond pulls out down to whisper something in her ear. Em laughs—louder than before and shriller—and says, “Oh, you wish,” before sashaying away.

 

“Close friends?” I query.

“Best friends. She’s been there for me ever since I moved from Ireland. She’s like that annoying little sister.”

“I’ve got an older sister so I think I get what you mean,” I comment.

 

Em comes back to ask them what they want to drink. She also adds, “Niall just told you that I’m an annoying little twat, didn’t he? Don’t even try to save his ass; I’m not his best friend for nothing.”

“You’re right. Erm, I’ll have Pepsi, thanks.”

“Lemonade for me,” Niall chirps in. “And you can go back to waitressing.”

“Rude. You know, there’s a reason why they don’t say waiter and waitress anymore. It’s too gender-specific or something. Same thing with policeman, fireman, et cetera.”

“Go away. Please.” Niall pleads.

 

As soon as the girl is out of their earshot, Niall quips, “Em’s big on feminist stuff. It’s best we keep our mouth shut around her. She’s also got a romantic heart so, yeah. I’ll leave it at that.”

 

 

Ten minutes later, Niall starts to complain about the lack of food. I have s noticed back in school how the blond was always eating but wow, that hasn’t changed. The small basket of bread sticks never stood a chance, and neither did I. At least Niall offered me the last one but I let Niall have it.

 

Yup. Not even really dating but I’m whipped already.

 

Em comes to take their orders and she only asks me since she knows what Niall will be ordering. I order a simple French toast meal with eggs, sausage, the works. The server gives Niall a knowing look before walking away.

 

Our lunch comes out and Niall looks visibly relieved. He dives into his pile of waffles and other breakfast stuff. I note that what Niall is having and probably feed three grown men, plus a child maybe.

 

“How do you stay so skinny?” I blurt out.

“Hmm?” Niall mumbles around a mouth stuffed full of bacon.

“I mean, er, you eat like a lot but you’re still skinny.”

Niall shrugs. “Dunno. Guess I’m blessed with super fast metabolism. My mum used to complain about the grocery bills. Now Em does too.”

“You two live together?”

 

Another shrug. “Needed someone to split the rent with. Not all of us are princes, y’know.” Niall winks deviously, but I can see a sliver of something else. He lets it go—again.

“I suppose, yeah. My mates Louis and Liam share a flat for the same reason. It’s a massive mess, though. Louis is worse. He never makes his bed and you can hardly see the floor of his bedroom. Liam is the sensible one so he’s always trying to nag Louis into cleaning. If it wasn’t for him, the entire flat would be a pigsty, I reckon.”

Niall laughs his wonderful laugh. “Kinda sounds like Em’s room. Her room isn’t really that bad. She just has a bad habit of not putting away her clothes and leaving them on the floor.”

 

The rest of our brunch date passes by in a flurry of small talk and more of Niall’s laughter. By the end of it, I have learned more about Niall and Em. Niall moved to England when he was sixteen and never felt like he fit in. He loves getting tattoos because it’s ‘fucking awesome and cool’ and also because each one has a special meaning. “Maybe someday, I’ll show you all of them and tell you what each of them means,” Niall suggest with a wiggle of his brows.

“I’ll take up on that offer any time,” I answer with a brow wiggle of my own.

 

We half the cheque and then head out.

 

“Are we gonna take a romantic stroll through the park again?” I ask, playful glint in his green eyes.

“Nope. I like surprising people.” He gestures at his bike.

 

 

-

 

 

 

“You, Niall Horan, are absolutely mental.” I exclaim.

“That’s what they tell me.” I’m not looking at Niall, but I can still hear the grin in his voice.

 

Niall has whisked me off to Southend-on-Sea. It’s about an hour away and not booming with the beach-goers yet, as England is still wrapped in the chilly pre-spring weather. I can’t help but smile as the waves crash on the seashore. Who would have known that he would be whisked off to beach on his first date?

 

“I know you like this,” Niall remarks, placing his elbow on Harry. The taller of the two glances down to confirm that Niall is stood on top of a rock so that he can lean on me without stretching some muscles.

“Getting comfy?” I tease.

 

The blond rests his head on his arm. Soft blond locks tickle the side of my neck and that, for some bizarre reason, has me blushing brighter than a tomato.

“Very.” Niall angles his head so that warm breaths now fan over the exposed skin on my neck.

 

A strong breeze blows from the sea and I shiver. The sun can be deceiving, I muse. It can be beating down upon you and make it look like it’s a hundred degrees outside while the weather’s freezing your bum off.

“Getting cold?” asks Niall.

“Nah, just the wind.”

“If you’re not cold, we should do something.”

“Do what?”

“How do you feel about a little spontaneous fun, Mr Styles?”


	3. Chapter 3

“How do you feel about a little spontaneous fun, Mr Styles?” asks Niall.

 

“Sure, why not?

 

Niall’s cute little smirk grows into a full-grown grin. His slim, calloused fingers are on the hem of his t-shirt and before my frazzled brain can process it (his smile, just wow), Niall is shirtless. The top button of his skin tight jeans is already undone and the Irishman is tugging down the zip. He toes off his shoes, followed by his jeans. Without a beat of hesitation, Niall pulls down his Calvin Kleins.

 

“C’mon, then,” Niall shouts form the freezing, springtime sea. “Live a little, mate.”

“But—” I start to protest but Niall cuts me off.

“If you’re gonna say that we can be arrested for public display of indecency, screw that. This is a deserted beach and no-one hardly comes here. Believe me, I’ve been here more than a handful of times,” Niall winks. Blue orbs match the sea, but they sparkle brighter and look livelier than the water.

 

I sigh. “Fine.”

Niall whoops in triumph. “Knew you’d give in to me Irish charms.”

 

I stick my tongue out at the blond as he strips down slowly, not meaning to tease or anything. True, I’ve never been that shy about nudity before but he’s in a public fucking beach for godsakes!

 

To make it even more embarrassing, Niall lets out a loud and drawn out wolf whistle when I am finally down to my birthday suit. “Looking proper smashing, Haz!” Niall cheers.

I want to cover my privates but decides against it. “Thanks?”

“You don’t have to say that I look good naked too; I know I do.”

“Cocky much?”

“Very much.”

 I dip my toe into the water, testing it out. It’s colder than fuck and I wonder how Niall is stood there in waist-deep water without even shivering. I mean, Niall is pretty skinny with zero ounce of fat on his milky-skinned body!

 “Don’t be such a baby, Harry! You’re cute, but baby ain’t a good look on ya, I reckon.”

 Out of spite, I splash all the way to where Niall is, looking down at the older boy. Niall is smirking up at him, soft pink lips quirked up and dark blue eyes blazing.

 Niall runs the pads of his fingertips along my arm. The motion raises goose bumps on my skin, also making me shiver. I’m not sure if it’s from the icy temperature or from Niall’s tender touch.

 A strangled shout leaves my lips when suddenly, I find myself submerged in water. A pair of warm arms wraps themselves around me and I realise that those are shaking uncontrollably. My head breaks the surface and that’s when I hear a loud laughter.  
“You didn’t see it coming!? Not at all!” Niall guffaws.

“You think it’s funny?” I growl, indignant.

“Hilarious.”

 I lunge at Niall and grabs at around his waist, tacking him back into the water. It quickly turns into a aquatic wrestling match and I learn soon enough that Niall is stronger than he looks. Who would have thought that a shortish leprechaun could fend off a six-foot tall guy so well?

 In the end, it’s me shouting: “I give, I give!” thumping my palm on Niall’s shoulder.

“What’s the magic word, Styles?”

“You win!”

Niall imitates a buzzer “Try again.”

“Niall Horan is a sex god!”

“Close.”

“Niall Horan is a fucking sex god and Harry Styles is totally powerless against him!” I all but scream.

“Good, boy,” Niall croons. He actually curls his finger underneath my chin and scratches it, almost absentmindedly.

 Niall loosens his choke hold on me; his arms still hanging loosely around my shoulders. I like it; I likes it a lot. The older boy already feels like home—familiar and comforting. I find myself snuggling into the crook of Niall neck, breathing in the subtle scent of some aftershave or cologne. Niall readjusts his hands of my waist so that now, he is gripping (lightly) the sharp hipbones with his fingers splayed out. I simply lean into his touch and own their accord, my eyelids droop. Smirking, Niall inches in until our noses are bumping and foreheads are pressed together. Niall moves one had up to my cheek, cupping it and then angling it towards me.

When our lips meet, it’s all of those movie clichés but a thousand times better. I can feel sparks zinging throughout my bloodstream from my lips down to the tips of my toes. Niall’s hand that has been resting on m waist to the small of my back; pressing my body flush against his. I don’t resist at all and simply melts into Niall.

Lips devour one another hungrily in a dance of passion and desire, adrenaline rushing in our veins. I hold onto Niall’s lips for all I am worth and I know, right then, that I don’t want to ever let him go. The feeling must be mutual for Niall’s grasp on me gets tighter as well. Intimate. Niall’s tongue probes along the seam of my pliant lips and I lets him in in a heartbeat. Niall’s tongue is relentless, tagging mine playfully one moment and then poking at various points inside my mouth.

 I almost forgets that I am stood in the middle of a sea (well almost) until a strong gust washes over us, rippling the surface of water and tickling me.

 Seeing I shiver again, Niall suggests, “Let’s get out of the water, yeah? You look like you’re about to catch pneumonia.”

“If I do catch pneumonia, I’m blaming you, Ni.”

“I’ll nurse you back to health if that happens.”

“Gonna hold you to that.”

“As you wish.”

 

When we get out, Niall starts laughing. “I don’t have anything to dry us off. I’m guessing you don’t either?”

I shake my head. I then runs my fingers through his curls to somewhat tame them.

“Okay then.”

 We get dressed in silence. Once we are dressed in now-damp clothes, Niall beams. “I’ve an idea but I’m not sure I you’ll be up for it.”

“If it’s gonna get me dry, I’m up for it.”

Niall walks over to his bike. “Hop on then.”

 

 

★

 

 

 

I hate to qualify for the gay clichés but he can’t help it.

“Auntie Anne’s B&B? My, my Mr Horan. I never pegged you to be the date and shag type.”

 Niall shrugs, almost rolling his sparkling ocean orbs. “They have an amazing continental breakfast. Plus, the rooms are forty a night.”

“I thought we’d just take advantage of their warm showers and dry towels.”

“You can haul a cab back to London; I’ll stay for another beach day.”

“Nah, I’ll stay. We can be adults ‘bout this.”

 A couple hours later, it’s dinnertime and Niall’s bouncing around, whining about his empty stomach. “C’mon, Haz! I know a brilliant all-you-can-eat buffet ten minutes from here! I swear, if you take one more minute in front of the damn mirror, I’ll throw you over me shoulder and carry you to my bike.”

“Just a sec!” I call out. I fiddle with a stray lock of curl and tucks it into place.

 Before dinner, we stripped off our damp clothes and placed them out in the mini balcony for the sun to dry them; whilst wearing bathrobes, of course. So my clothes are reasonably dry and in a wearable condition.

 “Tryin’ to impress me?” teases the blonde.

“You wish.”

 As Niall has promised, the buffet is ten short minutes away. The staff recognises Niall so I can only assume that Niall visits this seaside resort town often.

 Niall looks the happiest when he is eating, I decide in a couple minutes. The said Irish boy is munching away at his too-full plate of various foods—from spinach salad drenched in Caesar dressing to prawn and yam tempuras. Niall slurps his piña colada flavoured smoothie.

 “Whatcha starin’ at?” Niall prompts, breaking me out of my little Niall-trance.

“You’re cute when you eat, is all,” I reply, blushing insanely.

“Aww. Flattery ain’t getting you anywhere,” Niall winks.

“Trying never hurt anyone.”

“Keep tryin’ then.”

 

 Dinner is over in less the thirty minutes, all thanks to Niall. In that span of time, Niall has managed to wolf down four plates of wonderful food and a plate of desserts.

 “Finally full?” I ask as he waves over a server for the cheque.

“Not quite, but that’s what the gelato place is for.”

“Cute,” I quip, placing a fifty in the cheque jacket.

 The gelato place is packed full of people even though it’s only the early hours of dinner. Niall orders a triple scoop in a chocolate-coated waffle cone while Harry opts for a double scoop in a cup. Seeing Niall lick away at the giant pile of gelato is too cute to handle.

 “You got a little,” I point out when a glob of gelato touches Niall’s nose. Niall swipes at the tip of his nose but misses it.

Smiling, I lean across the table to enclose my lips around the melted liquid. From my position, I can feel the hot puffs of breath fanning on my Adam’s apple.

 “Thanks,” Niall murmurs, almost to quiet to hear.

“Anytime.”

 I start to lean back but Niall’s hand darts out, keeping me close. Our lips meet and the kiss is even sweeter with the added taste of gelato lingering in each other’s mouths.

 

Yeah, I can definitely get used to this.


	4. Chapter 4

I stare at the bed as Niall and I return to our room in the bed and breakfast. The room we have received is nice, with a reasonably sized bathroom, coffee table, sofa bed, and the works. However, there’s only one bed.

And the sofa bed can barely fit Niall.

 I really hope that Niall isn’t a blanket hog.

  

Right at that moment, Niall walks out of the bathroom as if on cue.

“Shower’s all yours, Haz,” Niall states. A large fluffy towel is warped around his slim waist while he is drying his dyed blond locks with a smaller one. For a moment, Harry stares at Niall’s naked torso, eyes wandering all the way down past the V-lines and down to where the light brown wisps of hairs disappear into the towel.

 “Like what you seen?” smirks the blond.

 Cheeks flaming red, I stutter, “N-no.” but my eyes betray him and travel down south again.

Damn.

 “Stare all you like. ‘S not you don’t know what’s under the towel.”

 To prove his point, Niall drops his towel and picks up his dried boxers. He takes his time pulling those on. By the time Niall is dressed in those tight boxers, I am positive that I’m drooling.

 Blushing profusely, I stalk into the bathroom.

 After a long, hot shower that probably wasted enough water for an entire village in Africa, I emerge from the shower.

Right when Niall bursts through the door.

 “Shit! Sorry, I was just gonna brush me teeth and thought you were still in the shower,” Niall apologises.

“’S alright,” I reply, my entire face and neck gone crimson.

“I don’t think it’s healthy to be that red, Hazza,” teases Niall.

“Shush you,” I retort half-heartedly.

 We flip through the small telly until all that’s on are shitty talk shows and news. I’m stubbornly dressed in my jeans and a t-shirt while Niall is clad only in his boxers.

 “We can be adults about this, y’know, Niall taunts, patting the space next to him as I’m stood awkwardly on the side of the bed.

“I can—I can take the sofa,” Harry offers.

“Mate, that sofa bed can barely fit me. No way in ‘ell can it fit you, Mr Tall and Handsome.” Niall crawls over to Harry and yanks him onto the bed. “Now come lie down, Hazzy. ‘M tired and I like to cuddle when I sleep.”

“Okay. Alright,” Harry mumbles.

 I settle down on the warm bed and snuggle into Niall’s waiting arms. I’ve got to admit, Niall gives the best hugs and if I could, I would stay in the blond’s warm embrace forever.

 “Smell s’ good,” Niall mumbles dopily, nosing at the top of Harry’s curls.

“Thanks,” I nuzzle into the crook of Niall’s neck. “So do you.”

The older boy chuckles. “Let’s go to sleep, yeah?”

“’Kay.’

 

 

★

 

 

 

I wake up warm and kind of sweaty. And I can feel little puffs of breath tickling my forehead, rustling the lock of curl that always manages to fall across my forehead.

 Opening my eyes, I see Niall’s lips less than an inch away from mine. Niall’s lips are slack from sleep.

 Everything about the tattooed ‘punk’ boy is so innocent and pure-looking when he sleeps. His blond hair is dishevelled and sticking out in every direction in a cute, carefree way. His cheeks are lightly flushed and his arm is slung over my body in an almost protective manner.

 A knock sounds from the door, awaking Niall.

 He stirs slowly, stretching out his arms and slowly blinking his eyes open. The sight is so cute that I almost croon. I barely manage to catch it before the little sound slips out of my mouth.

“Mornin’,” Niall breathes, lips almost brushing my own. “Is that our breakfast?”

“Yeah.”

“Get it, then.” Niall orders, pecking me softly on the lips.

And who am I to disobey such a sweet command?

 The lady hands me a large tray of hot breakfast food—waffles, syrup, sausages, coffee and tea, everything. I thank her and bring the tray back to bed.

 “Breakfast!” Niall cheers, kissing me again on the lips, morning breath be damned.

 Niall shovels a mouthful of bacon and waffles into his mouth, moaning appreciatively at the savoury tastes and smells. I eat slowly, opting to watch Niall eat instead with a fond smile playing on my lips. Niall’s sleep-mussed hair refused to lay flat even after Niall has run his fingers through it a dozen times.

 Some of the syrup gets on the corner of Niall’s lips, so, naturally, I point it out. “You got a little.” Déjà vu much?

“Hmm? Niall flicks his tongue, ending up smearing the sticky sugar over his cheek.

“Lemme get that.” I reach out to wipe it off his cheek.

 Smirking, Niall grabs my hand before he can pull it away, jus like last night. He opens his mouth and slowly sucks in the finger, tongue twirling around it to get every drop of syrup off it. Then, staring deep into my wide eyes, he takes in the finger deeper until I can feel the back of Niall’s throat.

 Grinning like the Cheshire cat, Niall slowly releases the finger. I’m still too flabbergasted to bring my hand back down.

 About a minute later, I unfreeze and continue eating my breakfast. All the while, my mind keeps flashing back to what Niall had done to him. The primal part of my brain can’t help but wish that it wasn’t just my finger that Niall deep-throated.

 Shaking my head, I force those lewd thought out of my head—at least I try—and go back to watching Niall eat. Niall promptly eats the rest of the food, since I’m done eating. He wolfs down the waffles, practically inhales the sausages and bacon, and shovels in the plate of corn beef hash. I’m slowly drinking my tea when Niall has finished the entire tray. He looks at me expectantly; smiling, I pour Niall a cup of coffee. The older boy adds some milk to the cup before taking a sip.

 “The breakfast here is really good. Part of the reason why I love to come down here.”

“What’s the other part?”

“Beautiful scenery and being able to get away from the cityscape for once. Where I’m from, we didn’t have busy streets full of people and smog. It was nice and green, the way towns are meant to be.”

I nod my agreement. Sometimes, I miss my hometown too.

 We get ready to leave. Niall stops by the front desk to chat up the owner and I find it endearing. Niall may look intimidating with his full-sleeve of tattoos and multiple piercings, but he has got a heart of gold.

 “So are we going straight back to London or have you other surprises for me?” I ask, half-joking.

“Maybe. Not gonna tell you anything yet.”

 We hop on Niall’s motorbike and start on our journey back to wherever Niall has in mind.

 A little less than an hour later, I find myself on a bridge that connects the main island to Osea Island. It’s a beautiful little island with lots of greenery and not a lot of people. Niall parks the bike near the beach and I wonder if we are going to go take a dip again.

 “What are we here for?” I query, unsure.

“You’ll see.”

 He has no choice but to follow the blond down the beach.

 With the sun up high, the beach is quite beautiful. For once, there are no clouds in the sky so the weather feels warmer than it actually is. The path Niall is leading gradually moves to an area between the seashore and the forest. Looking closely, I can make out the outlines of a cabin.

 “Is that a cabin?” I voice my thought.

“Yup. Got it cheap when I first came here. There should be a canoe or some small rowboat as well if you feel adventurous. I think there’s a lake deep in the forest of somethin’.”

“Where haven’t you been, mate?” I wonder. It seams like Niall has gone to many places in England, some that I have never been to before.

“I like traveling. Takes me mind off things,” Niall replies with a shrug. “I’ve yet to go to Scotland though. Too far away and I’m not a fan of flying.”

 The interior of the cabin is cosy and warm. The furniture looks worn in and antique. There’s only one bedroom complete with a closet and a bathroom without a shower; just a bathtub and an old-fashioned sink.

 I stride over to the closet. Most of the clothes are summery, but there are a few long sleeved tees that might fit me. I start to pick out an outfit to change into when I feel Niall’s arms encircle my waist.

 “Nuh-uh. My clothes, my pick. I’ll choose what I want you to wear.” He makes a shooing motion with his hands and I exit the room, laughing softly.

 Two minutes later, Niall comes out holding a tight black button-down and black skinny jeans that look like they could be a girl’s leggings. I arch a brow. “How ‘m I supposed to fit into that?”

Niall smirks evilly. “If I can wear those, you sure as hell can.” With that, Niall returns to the bedroom, presumably to change into fresh clothes.

 Sighing, I pick the clothes off my body right down to my boxers. Just then, Niall comes back out. “Thought you might want a clean pair of boxers.” He throws a pair of black boxers to me and goes away again. I gratefully pull of my pants and pull on the clean clothes, relishing in the lack of smell and stuff.

 Niall emerges from his room wearing a tight navy polo shirt and khakis. He looks really, really good, I muse. I have always had a weakness for polo shirts on boys and damn, Niall is looking proper fit in his little outfit.

 “Starin’ ain’t polite, Hazzy,” Niall taunts. “I know I look good enough to eat; so no need to eye-rape me.”

I blush hotly. “We’re dating; I’m supposed to mentally undress you and stuff.”

“Puh-lease. You’ve see me naked a couple times now. Haven’t had enough yet?”

 Niall lets out a laugh. “I’ll meet you outside. We’re going out for lunch.”


	5. Chapter 5

 

There’s a small diner right by the beach, boasting their specialities of freshly caught seafood. Niall bikes us over to the diner, me still dressed in Niall’s clothes. I’m not very surprised when Niall is friendly with the staff and the chef. Of course Niall is friends with everyone; inside his tough punk exterior, Niall is as fluffy as a giant teddy tear that you want to cuddle in your sleep.

 Niall tells me that the seafood platter here is to die or, so the two of us end up ordering it alongside prawn tempuras and salmon salad. While we wait for the food to arrive, we chat about their lives. It turns out that Niall was a top student in music and theatre classes. With his strong Irish accent and lyrical voice, I can easily imagine Niall singing a ballad or a pop rock song. By the time our food arrives, we have learnt so much more about each other. Niall starts to nudge my foot with his, effectively commencing a footsie war. The waitress looks at us with a slight frown as she sets down the platter. The tempuras and salad arrives shortly after.

 “Oyster?” I quirk a brow as I examine the seafood platter.

The blond shrugs. “Fresh from the sea.”

 I let that slide reluctantly; I’m too distracted by the way the wind (because they are sat outside) ruffles the dyed blond locks. I really want to have my fingers tangled up in Niall’s hair all day and all night if I could.

Realising that I have been staring at Niall for too long—again—I blush.

“You’re real cute when you blush,” Niall comments.

Which only makes my cheeks burn hotter. “Thanks,” I mumble.

“And then when I compliment ya, ya blush even mumble or stumble over your words, which is even cuter.”

 

 

Dinner goes by in a conversation full of laughter and flushed cheeks. I insist on splitting the check again and Niall lets me. As soon as the cheque is paid, I’m dragged out of and to a little French café across the street. The showcase is full of pastries and other little dessert items that look mouth-watering. It doesn’t come as a surprise when Niall orders about four different pastries and a large-sized herbal tea; I only order a tea and a cupcake.

 “I really would love to know where all that food goes,” Harry wonders, poking at Niall’s flat stomach.

“Abs of steel, baby. And plus, I’m still a growing teenager,” Niall jokes.

“Sure, Nialler. Whatever helps you sleep at night.”

 Niall, of course, finishes all of his dessert in less than ten minutes. I watch him go at it while he drinks is tea.

 “Whatcha smilin’ at?” Niall queries. He has managed to get a flake of croissant on his top lip.

“You’ve got a little—” I point at the flake. How many times is this going to happen to me?

 Niall flicks his tongue out, deliberately missing it. He pouts at makes a show of being annoyed.

 Shaking my head, I lean across the table to place a chaste kiss on Niall’s soft pink lips. Niall has other idea, though, as he manoeuvers me to his side around the small table. He practically seats me on his lap as he grips my curls, my major soft spot. Harry isn’t the most vain person in the world, but he still knows that everyone seems to develop a thing for his hair.

 I feel wet, warm pressure on my lips and submit to it, parting my lips around it to let Niall in. I can feel Niall smirking into the kiss before he darts in, taking control in a heartbeat and massaging the taste of chocolate croissant into my own taste buds. Before I know it, I’ve got his fingers firmly around the back of Niall’s neck while the other is resting on his undoubtedly inked chest. Niall has both his hands tangled up in my curls, tugging gently to earn little, nearly inaudible moans from me.

 I decide that I really, really like kissing Niall. While I don’t have all that much experience kissing boys—seeing that I only realised my bisexuality only in my sixth form—I likes that Niall likes to kiss roughly but sweetly at the same time.

 We don’t realise how much time has passed until I pulls back for a breath and see the girl stood behind the counter blatantly staring at the two of them.

 Niall grazes the shell of my ear as he whispers, “Let’s get out of here.” Accentuated by a flirty thigh-squeeze.

 

 

★

 

 

 

“Ah come on. It’s not gonna hurt or anythin’,” Niall teases.

“It will if I do it wrong.” I gulp loudly.

“It’s easy, mate. Just hop on and ta-da, you’ll be ridin’ it like a pro.”

 I glare at the motorbike as if it just set fire to my childhood house. “I’m not even a good car driver.”

“You’ll learn, Haz. Now c’mon, stop bein’ a wimp and get t’ it.”

 Sighing heavily, I get on the bike and turns on the ignition. I look at Niall with a helpless expression that says ‘now what’?

 “Keep your grip on the clutch,” his hands cover mine. He gives me what’s meant to be soothing squeeze and I relaxes a tiny degree.

 “Now, slowly release the clutch. Don’t make any sharp turns. We’re goin’ straight for the next three blocks.”

 I take a deep breath before I release my death grip on the clutch. The reaction is immediate as the bike roars to life and takes off. Niall places his arms around my waist, skinny forearms pressing into his stomach. I feel like I’m on the verge of driving us both off to hell.

 “You’re doin’ great, Haz. Remember when you turn, it’s like a bike; go too sudden and we’ll topple over.”

“That’s a nice thing to know,” I grumble.

“Oh, be a man about it, love.”

 When that dreaded corner comes around, Niall spares one hand to wrap it on top of my left hand. Slowly, he steers the bike to our right so that we make a smooth right turn.

 Niall presses a light kiss to the exposed skin on the side of my neck. “See? Wasn’t too bad, now, was it?”

I’m tempted to say that it was but I keep my mouth shut. Knowing myself, I might get distracted and swerve off the road and we’ll die a horrible slow painful death.

 “Don’t think out loud, mate,” Niall chuckles. “You’re gettin’ me worried now.”

“Sorry.”

“Nah, you’re cute when you worry.”

 I’m lucky that we’re by the cabin. A minute later after we have climbed off the bike, I ask, “When am I not cute, then?” I challenge.

 Green eyes meet blue and I swear that they turn about fifty shades darker.

 With a hungry desperation, Niall latches on to my mouth and starts to kiss me roughly. He slams the door open and hurries to close it behind us.

 I can vaguely feels myself being pushed backwards until my back hits the solid wall behind me. I groan into Niall’s mouth and the older boy doesn’t miss the change to delve into my mouth. I let Niall have his way in our kiss just like he always does. Something about the way Niall moves, talks, and kisses me makes me feel like I can’t imagine not having met the tattooed lad.

 Niall tugs at the hem of my (his) shirt and I quickly get the hint. I raise my arms to the air, allowing for Niall to take it off. Niall’s shirt soon meets the same fate. He grips my hipbones as he presses our bodies impossibly closer. Moans escape our kiss-bitten lips as our bodies start to react.

 We break the kiss to suck in some much needed air. Even then, it seems that Niall can’t stop tasting the salty sweetness of my skin. He starts down on a path down from my jawline down to his sexy, pronounced collarbones, nipping and sucking at them expertly.

 “Bed. Now.” he growls out. I can only whimper out a ‘yes’.

Grinning, Niall sweeps me off my feet and carries me to his bedroom.

  

I have never been the type to fuck on a first date or even on the tenth date. I’ve always believed in waiting for the right person, as old-fashioned (read: stupid) as that sounds. So yeah, I’m still a virgin and to be frank, I’m a bit scared for himself. Will Niall laugh at me if I show any inexperience? Will he discard me like a used Starbucks cup?

 “Why so tense, Haz?” Niall inquires.

“’S nothing,” I mumble.

“If you’re uncomfortable with his, please tell me so,’ Niall says, fingers playing with the waistband of my jeans.

 I don’t say a word so Niall goes ahead and unbuckles the belt. He swiftly pulls down both of my jeans and Topman boxers. He quickly follows up by getting rid of his own trousers and pants.

 I gulp. This isn’t the first time I’ve seen another boy naked—I blame the communal showers after football practices and even gym classes on hot summer days. But it is the first time I have seen another nude boy while we were both aroused.


	6. Chapter 6

Niall’s fingers dip lower and lower until they are tracing the V-lines on my pelvis.

 

“W-wait,” I stammer out, my hear tin my throat. “I-I haven’t—I mean I can’t. . .”

The blond takes his hands away. “Wha’ . . . oh, you mean,” he blushes.

“Yeah,” I admit, gnawing on my bottom lip.

 

Instead of laughing or making crude comment, Niall draws me in for a kiss. “’S alright. We don’t have to do that kind of stuff right now. I mean, it’s only our second date and I wasn’t gonna push you into doing somethin’ you’re not comfortable with.” He continues to shower my face with gentle kisses.

 Whatever Niall says, I can’t help but feel ashamed. “I know that it’s really stupid and un—”

 Niall crashes his lips to mine, shutting me up effectively. “No, you’re perfect just the way you are. To be honest, I would have been surprised if you had got around.”

 I pull back, mouth agape with mock anger. “How dare you!”

Niall sticks out his tongue. “Whatcha gonna do about it?”

 Glad that my little problem downstairs has gone down a bit, I jump on top of Niall to pin him down. The older boy only smirks, challenging me.

 So I get a pillow from underneath Niall’s blond head and pretend to smother him, and with the other hand, start to tickle him mercilessly.

 Niall laughs hysterically, gasping for air and legs flailing about. He aims some soft kicks at my back, trying to get me off his body. I laugh with Niall because, let’s face it, you can’t be immune to the blond leprechaun’s laughter no matter who you are.

 “I give, I give! Sorry for calling you a prude indirectly!” Niall yells, hands clawing at the pillow.

“Now, was that so hard to do?” I smirk, removing the pillow.

 I shouldn’t have let his guard down because next thing I know, my face is planted on the sheets, Niall sat on the bottom of my spine. The blond is definitely lighter than me as it causes me no pain at all.

 

“Sweet, naïve Hazza,” Niall croons. “Don’t you know that the world is a big bad place? You let your guard down,” I can hear the grin in his Irish voice, “and bad things happen.”

 Niall leans down so that his chest is flush with my back. Then, he proceeds to nibble on the sensitive patch of skin on the back of my neck. His teeth grip the short curls dusting the skin there, giving them tugs that border between gentle and harsh—all very pleasurable as I love to have my hair pulled. Gently.

 “Ngh, Niall, you—” the rest of his threat is caught off by a strangled squeal when Niall finds the soft spot where my neck meets his shoulder.

 “I’m sorry, you were sayin’?”

 Niall continues to ‘torture’ me like that until he must have got bored. He flips me over and kisses my lips tenderly, the kiss belying his earlier actions. I kiss him back immediately, melting into the tenderness and the overwhelming amounts of affection.

 Briefly, I wonder if this is too early for me to be falling in love. But this feels too much like falling in love.

 

 

★

 

 

 

I wake up with the taste of Niall’s lips still upon mine. With a blush, I realise that we had snogged ourselves to sleep. I am also acutely aware of our state of dress—or lack thereof—so I start to climb push Niall off my body.

 But then Niall shifts in his sleep and hitches a leg up my hip. His arms are also wound around my back more tightly. So I relent and kisses Niall sweetly for a few more minutes. Eventually, the blond boy wakes up, a confused smile crinkling his eyes when he sees me stop him and feels our lips still pressed together.

 “I think we snogged ourselves unconscious last night,” Harry explains, blushing again.

“Mmmm. . . . ‘kay.” I might have died on the spot because Niall has the sexiest morning voice ever. His already thick Irish brogue is impossibly thicker and I can’t help but lean down to press the tip of my nose to Niall’s rubbing them together for an Eskimo kiss. Groggily, Niall shakes his head slightly back and forth, but soon stops.

 “Hey, it’s time to wake up, Ni!” I exclaim. I sit up and attempts to pull Niall up with me. But the smaller boy proves to be a dead weight when he wants to be.

 “Five mo’ minutes . . .” Niall groans, not helping Harry pull him up at all.

 I check the clock quickly. “But it’s noon already. I’ll make you waffles if you wake up now.”

“No . . . ingredients.”

I roll my eyes. “I’ll think of something.”

 A snore is all that answers me.

 Sighing, I shake my curls and rearrange them before climbing off the bed. I walk into Niall’s closet to pick out some clothes. A few minutes later, I decide on a pair of black jeans from yesterday and a The Queen t-shirt with long sleeves.

 

Twenty minutes later, I return to Niall’s bedroom with a tray full of freshly made fry-ups and two glasses of milk. Niall is sleeping away and the sight makes me want to coo at the adorableness. I’ll be damned if the sleeping beauty in front of me wasn’t the cutest thing I have seen in a while.

 “I can hear you gaping, y’know,” Niall comments snidely.

 “Was not.” But I double-check to make sure that I wasn’t drooling over the Irish cuteness.

 “Do I smell fry-up?” Niall asks, sitting upright and slowly blinking open his eyes.

“Yep. Hope you like corn beef hash and some sausages.”

“Darlin’ there isn’t any food that I don’t like,” Niall winks, his gaze flickering downwards for the shortest of seconds.

 

 

★

 

 

 

“You really are a man of many surprises, aren’t you Horan?” I ask half-rhetorically as I hop onto the back of Niall’s Honda bike.

 Niall has got yet another surprise planned for them and I have agreed to let myself be blindfolded for the occasion. As I have expected, Niall chooses to not answer.

 “It’ll be worth it, I promise.” I feel warm lips press to mine so I lean into it, savouring the taste that is becoming all too familiar to me.

 I groan and wrap my arms around Niall’s waist tightly.

 

 

Yup, I am definitely falling in love.


	7. Chapter 7

“Are we there yet?” I ask in a childish voice, hoping that my voice could be heard over the loud purr of the bike engine.

“Not a chance,” Niall yells back, daring to glance back for a second.

I freak out and squeeze Niall’s midsection more tightly. Niall only let out a loud laughter at my reaction.

 

It takes us about twenty more minutes for us to reach our destination. It is plaintive, surprisingly so. Our destination is a mountaintop, bare of anything except for the trees surrounding it and a red-and-white hound’s-tooth blanket thrown over the centre. On top of the blanket sat a picnic basket full of all sorts of food, I guess.

 “You are such a sap,” I tease, dismounting the bike.

“Had it arranged by my mate,” Niall shrugs. “Besides, it’s a romantic cliché I’ve wanted to play out for a long time. You’re the first bloke—or a chick—I’ve done this for so be honoured.” He winks for Harry’s benefit.

 I lay my hand over my forehead, knees weakening on command, “Ooh, I think I’m going to swoon from he overwhelming sentimentality.”

“Oh shush and come eat with me, you cheeky bastard.”

 The food is quite nice, I must admit. I manage to coax it out of Niall that no, the food wasn’t home-cooked or anything, it was store-bought from Nando’s. Niall confesses that the ‘whole ‘like attracts like’ chemistry shite must be true because none of his mates can cook worth shite’. I shake my head at the adorable blond.

 “Maybe I should live with you so I can cook you decent food that you can wake up to. Better for your health, too.”

“But unhealthy eating habits suit me,” Niall pouts.

 Finding that to be the perfect excuse, I lean forward to brush the tip of my nose with Niall’s. Ever the patient one, Niall grabs the back of my neck and pulls me towards him for a kiss. I can’t help but smile at Niall’s cute eagerness. Before getting to know him, I never would have thought to use the words cute and Niall in the same sentence. But the more I get to know Niall, and his warm fuzzy personality, the more I want to croon at the big ball of adorableness and sexiness that is Niall.

 

 

Right now, I'm sure that I could die happy like this: wrapped up in the security of Niall’s warm embrace and our lips locked tight in a sweet, loving kiss.

 

 

★

 

 

 

We come back to the cabin when the sun is too high up in the sky for the lazing about to be comfortable. Niall somehow sweet-talks me into driving the bike on the way home. The second time is decidedly better than the first time around. Niall doesn’t laugh the entire time, so I take that as the sign that I’m improving (or so I can only fervently hope).

 “How long before you have to go work?” I ask, settling myself on the plush bed.

“Why, want to get rid of me so fast? You won’t be seeing the last of me for a while, darlin’.”

“No, ‘s just that I don’t want you to blow off work or something for me. That’d be disgustingly selfish.”

“’Disgustingly selfish’,” Niall quotes. “First time I heard someone say it outside of a fiction. Ha, good one. But no. I’ve told my boss that I’ll take the rest of summer off starting in August so I can go off backpackin’ through Europe. Been saving up the past year or so just for this.”

 I’m shocked. “Wouldn’t it be lonely all alone?”

“I’m fairly good at makin’ new friends. And solitude is lonely only if you make it that way.”

“That’s deep, Ni,” I tease.

Niall lunges forward to tackle me down to the bed and pins me down. His lips hover over mine, so close to touching.

 “Tease,” I mutter. I can practically taste Niall’s toothpaste and his cologne: peppermint and some Burberry.

“I’m afraid I’ve no idea what you’re talkin’ about, dearest Harry,” Niall says in a mock-serious tone. The sparkle in his eyes belies his tone, however; as does the smirk that is threatening to make an appearance.

 Niall lowers his body, purposefully brushing his groin on mine. A strangled moan escapes my lips and Niall does smirk then. He continues to press his body onto mine until not even air can fit in between us. A light flushing of red mottles my normally pale cheeks and damn, I kind of—no really, really love-hate—that Niall can go from innocent and cuddly teddy bear to a sex bomb in an instant.

 

It seems like downright eternity before Niall touches his lips to mine and it is totally Niall’s fault that I’m kissing him like I’ve been starved and Niall is his nectar and ambrosia. And Niall is to blame when my treacherous hands tangle up in Niall’s bleached locks greedily. And Niall is so, completely at fault for my body arching up into Niall’s closing non-existent distance between the two of us.

 

 

Yup, it’s all Niall’s fault.


	8. Chapter 8

Days pass and they all start to blur into a stretched-out week until the only thing that I can remember is Niall; the taste of Niall’s lips, the warmth of Niall’s embrace, Niall’s thick Irish brogue, Niall’s everything. My parents don’t even think to check in on me, which I doesn’t mind. Being the son of a corporate business empire has its perks, like unlimited credit card and the ease of obtaining every object of my desire.

 A week or two later—I really can’t be bothered to check—I wake up to Niall’s soft blond hair tickling my forehead.  I make a quiet whining sound in the back of my throat before giving in and opening my eyes.

 Niall is lying right ontop of me and our bodies are pressed quite tightly together. A flush starts to creep down my cheeks, covering right down to my chest in no time. The soft blond hair that was the cause of my not-so-rude (quite cute and lovable, actually) is still tickling his face and I cough out half of a laughter. It bloody tickles!

 The blond has to be evil, because the next thing he does is raise his hands to tug at the ends of my curls. An involuntary whispered moan slips out of my mouth and Niall smirks again. God, I used to hate boys or girls who smirked too much. But Niall, goddammit, Niall made everything okay.

 Even though my heartbeat is not beating at a healthy rate whenever Niall does as much as smile or raise his eyebrow.

 Niall smirks slowly, so teasingly slowly edges away as he inches closer, our noses bumping and our breaths mixing. I can’t deal with the anticipation so I tilt my head up to clash his lips with Niall’s. Perhaps clashing isn’t the right word because the nanosecond our lips touch, they just melt into each other. There is no Niall’s lips and Harry’s lips; no it’s just our lips moving together, hungry for more and wanting ever more and more and more. It’s insatiable, the taste of Niall’s lips. Really, it still is Niall’s fault. And I’ve no control over my own hands when they sneak down to map out the tattoos on Niall’s shirtless torso. Already, I have developed a fondness for them, some of them seared into my memories.

 So after the make-out session that turns too hot and heavy too quickly, Niall pushes himself off my boneless body and goes off to make some breakfast for us.

 “Something smells good,” I comment about twenty minutes later when I have regained most of my composure. Mostly.

 And it does smell heavenly. Niall is wearing only a pair of sweatpants and a black apron as he cooks up some pancakes and bacon. The microwave beeps and I reach to take out the bacon and butter (because I like my butter liquidy and half melted). Niall pouts playfully, lips inviting me straight back in. So I kiss him just because I can and want to. Niall’s lips part to let me in and I can taste the raw pancake batter on Niall’s lips.

 “Is it me or the food?” Niall breathes out, his hips checking into mine.

“It’s a close tie,” I mumble.

“Love, I really do prefer it when you don’t mumble. But thanks anyways.”

  

Thirty minutes later—because Niall silently talked him into another snogging session with those blue, blue eyes—we sit down around the island. Niall has his feet resting on my lap, which by itself is quite an endearing sight. He is at least three inches shorter than me so the endeavour he is putting into the simple pose is paramount. His pale legs are trembling in the slightest bit and I brush my fingertips over them.

 “Love, if this is too much of a workout, you should try something else,” I wink.

 Niall shakes his head because his mouth is stuffed full of bacon and gods knows what else. He’s like a chipmunk with the way he eats. A moment later, he swallows and replies, “Nah. I like me foot rests comfy and tall.”

 I blush for no apparent reason.

 Niall smiles knowingly before he wiggles his sock-less toes, some of them happening to push into my tummy. I let out a surprised mewl and instinctively shy away from the touch. However, Niall is insistent and keeps moving into me until he is nearly straddling my lap. Niall’s eyebrows do that little wiggling dance before he jumps into my lap and latches onto my neck with his hands, pale on pale easily indistinguishable against each other. The shorter fingers of Niall’s tangle into my curls naturally and pulls on the strands lightly—so, so lightly that I can barely feel the fleeting touches.

 I want to kiss Niall but Niall seems to have read my mind. Again. Niall is already wriggling out of my lap and back on his stool. I growl softly in dismay but the cute blank look that Niall does so often blows away what little annoyance I may have dared felt.

 

 

I’m already in too deep of the charm that is Niall Horan.

 

 

★

 

 

 

“Welcome to Petit Café, how may I help you?” Niall asks, not looking up from the cash register.

I raise my voice a couple whole tones and say, “A large mocha with extra whip and chocolate drizzle, please,”

“Hi Harry. D’ya want the cheese croissant with that?” Niall replies, still fiddling with the cash register.

 I pout. “How’d you know that it was me?”

“’Cause you’re the only one I now who speaks that slowly. And believe it or not, you don’t have to be British to recognise the different regional accents.” Niall punches in my order, croissant added since he knows that I will get it. He impatiently punches the cash drawer when it doesn’t open after he presses the ten-pound button on the touch screen. “Goddammit,” Niall mutters under his breath because his manager will strangle him, resurrect him, and then strangle him to death again if she heard her employees swear. I smile at the quaint sight because yes, I’ve heard of the manager’s reputations.

 “There’s things called grease oil and stuff,” I singsong.

“Yeah, if we had any. Reckon you could run to Tesco’s and get some for me.”

“Nope. I want my mocha first.” I stick out my tongue.

  

Niall grabs the ten-pound note and places in the space in between the cash drawer and the shelf that houses it. _So much for modernising the café and getting fancy new gadgets,_ I muse. From the corner of my eyes, I can see Niall pouring the strongly scented coffee into a paper cup, filling it halfway. He double cups it, brings it over to the hot chocolate dispenser and fills it two inches away from the top. Then he disappears for a moment or two before returning with a pouch of whipping cream and chocolate drizzle. The topping done, Niall goes to return the cream to the fridge. Only, before he is completely out of the brunet’s view, he brings his cream-covered finger up to his soft pink lips and flicks out his tongue, licking away the dollop of airy sugariness in a delicate way.

 And no, the sight doesn’t burn its way straight down to my downstairs area.

Nor does it make me blush hotly.

 Cross contamination and hygiene be damned.

 A sound of running water fills the small counter and Niall soon comes back with a steaming cup of mocha and damp hands. Niall wipes the moisture off his hands (another regulation violation) before handing the paper cups over to me. He then takes the tongs and grabs an extra cheesed croissant and tosses it in a paper bag with the café’s logo on it.

 “Meet you in half an hour, babes.” Niall winks, handing over my order.

I mean to say that I expect my change back but all I can manage is a nod.

 

“You,” Niall laughs as he takes the seat across from me, “are the cutest catch I’ve ever had.”

 I lower my copy of The Sun. “How so?”

“Because you’re the only boyfriend I’ve dated who has ever come to my work place just so that they can increase they chance of either developing diabetes or increase their likelihood of clotted arteries.”

 To prove his point, Niall leans forward to pinch my cheeks like annoying relatives do. I give him that a shit-eating grin just to make it more difficult but Niall manages. Maybe it’s his Irish magic but I find myself cooperating.

 “There, much better.” Niall states.

“Meh,” I grumble.

“Aww, I’m sorry. I hurt my little kitten’s feelings, haven’t I?” Niall croons.

“Your what?”

“You, dearest Hazza, look like a little kitten dozing off. Hasn’t anyone else told you that?”

 Fact of the matter is, yes, they have. Mostly girls though, so coming from Niall’s, a boy, mouth, it sounds odd.

“Isn’t it obvious that only boys float my boat?” Niall sighs overdramatically.

“Erm, no?” I pat myself on the back mentally for not stammering.

“Well I am. Done-zo.”

 I proceed to drink the mocha once Niall has let go of my numbed cheeks. Then something else sinks in.

“Since when am I your boyfriend?”

“Since the day you let me give you a ride on my bike.”

“That was non-consensual boyfriend-ing, then.”

“Didn’t hear you complaining, love.”

“’Cause I’m not.”

“Good,” Niall’s blue eyes sparkle. “I don’t know how I’ll make it without you anymore.”

  

Maybe, just maybe, I think, I’m not the only hopeless one in this relationship.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> cute, sweety, fluffy smut ahead!

August comes around way too quickly. The days where the sun and the rain clouds play chase quickly turn into days where the sun and the occasional clouds play hide and go seek, which in turn becomes consistently sunny or lightly cloudy days.

 

The constant warmth on my back is nice, I conclude. Sometimes, I think that I prefer the dark gloomy days over the bright sunny days but at times like this I do appreciate the soothing warmth beating down on me.

 Or maybe it’s just the days like this when Niall and I are cuddled up together on the roof of my ridiculously large house for one—for two if you count all those countless nights where Niall has stayed the night and take into account the accumulating amount of Niall’s clothes and other necessities. We climb out of one of the windows and spread out a blanket over the rough roofing tiles over my bedroom and simply lie there. Sometimes we bring finger foods up here to feed each other. Sometimes we bring up books and snuggle against each other we they read. Sometimes Niall brings out his guitar and sing whatever song comes to his mind, whatever suits his mood and I provides an excellent lower harmony. We are always in synch with each other and anything we do seem right; no it feels right.

 Niall feels right.

  

So here we are, lounging on the sun on the rooftop, shirts long forgotten and both of us only clad in shorts. Mine short are pretty much the short shorts that the girls wear, barely coming down to the tops of my lean thighs. Niall is wearing basketball shorts, a pair of his usual Ray-Bans perched on his button nose. We are both slightly sunburnt and lips swollen and reddened from the heated kisses we have shared. The sun is about to slip past the horizon, showering the world with its red-gold glow and fading warmth.

 “Niall?” I start to say, rolling over to my side so I can look at Niall’s mostly bare body.

“Yes?” he murmurs, taking off his shades.

“Will you do something for me?”

“Anything.”

“Anything?”

“Anything that your big heart desires.”

 “Make love to me.”

 

 Niall is speechless for a moment, which in and by itself is quite the achievement.

 “You sure?” he asks for confirmation. “’Cause I’m nothing, Haz. Just the run-of-the-mill teenage dirt-bag who’s not good for anything. I go ‘round on me motorbike and get tattoos every other week. People stay clear of me ‘cause they know, or think they know, that I’m up to no good. You deserve someone special.”

 “I love you, Niall. You are the most special person who’s ever been in my life.” There I said it. I dropped the big L-word.

“I love you, too, Harry.”

 

 

Niall tilts his head up to capture mine in a tender kiss. I part my lips automatically, letting the sweet taste of Niall fill my mouth. Slowly, Niall rolls himself over so that he is lying on top of my heated body. He kisses any coherent thoughts out of my mind, knees nudging my own apart; I comply to his every wish. Niall smiles into the kiss as he trails his guitar-roughened fingertips up and down my naked torso.

 By the time Niall slips his fingers inside the waistband of my shorts, the sun has blown out, cool darkness now blanketing us. Our kisses have turned up a notch, Niall’s tongue fully tasting every inch inside of my mouth as I shuck off my shorts. I’ve gone commando for the day, which Niall loves.

 “You. Are. So. Fucking. Beautiful. All mine,” Niall growls out, kissing me hungrily in between each word. “Mine.”

“Only yours.”

 Niall works to get rid of his own basketball shorts, the front material already pitching a tent. He caresses the side of my face as he kisses me again, more sweetly and lovingly than before. He then starts his descent down my torso, occasionally inked in. I’ve started getting tattoos when we got back, and my torso is now covered with two swallows, a ship on my bicep, and a few little things that symbolise things that matter the most to me like his family. He teases the valley formed by my six-pack, garnering a deep moan from me.

When Niall finally reaches my arousal, I’m positively trembling with desire. Niall takes me in swiftly, also wedging in two of his own fingers. He sneaks the first finger in the same time he lets the tip hit the back of his throat. I wiggle, trying to get used to the intrusion. A minute passes and I let him know that he can move. Everything Niall does is slow and careful, a total opposite of his usual behaviour. Niall works the single digit in and out of Harry, working his length at the same time.

 “More, god I need more, Ni,” I pant out.

So Niall obliges. He wets his fingers again before he pushes in with two. I visibly wince from the stretch, and immediately, Niall’s brows are creased.

 “’M fine. Just keep going, ah, please?”

 Niall pulls off so he can stretch upwards to kiss me gently. I can taste myself in the kiss but it isn’t as weird as I have anticipated. The taste is definitely new and bittersweet tinged in saltiness.

 As my boyfriend resumes his work, I choose to watch Niall at work.

 His pierced brow sits higher up in his concentration, lips enclosed around me. Those lips are red and shiny from exertion and so damn perfect that I could kiss them forever. And right now, this position could work too. The burning stretch as subsided into a pleasurable ache and I know that I’m ready now.

 “Make love to me, Niall. Please? right now?”

 He takes out his fingers and presses a kiss to my tip, making him shiver all over. He then sucks greedy little kisses back up Harry’s torso, up and up until their lips are reunited. Harry isn’t shy anymore; he knows what he wants. What he wants is for Niall to take him under to faint moonlight and scattered starlight.

 “Are you absolutely sure?” Niall whispers into the kiss. “There isn’t a do-over for--”

 I shut up whatever Niall was going to say with a mind-numbing kiss, well mind-numbing to me. Niall’s answering kiss sends tingles straight down to my toes.

 

Niall is so gentle and slow and everything I have wanted my first time to be like. He is never rough or too quick or even forceful. He rocks into me slowly, gradually building up the speed until both of us are lost in the thick haze of arousal and wrapped up in our rapture. At one point, I think I raked my hands down Niall’s smooth, muscular back, feeling them bunch up and relax as Niall rocks his hips. He arches his back to the long scratches, a broken moan tumbling out his pink, pink lips. There will be red welt running up and down Niall’s back for sure by the sun rises again. But neither of us can spare a thought for the future for right now, all we can think of, taste, hear, smell and simply feel is each other and each other only.

 I’m gone when Niall’s softly rough fingers encircle my erection, coaxing him into release. I choke out a moaned mantra of Niall’s name in endless repeat as pleasure washes over me, clinging to Niall’s body in bliss. Niall doesn’t last long and cries out Harry’s name as he climaxes as well.

 

Afterwards, we lay in each other’s arms as we try to regain the normal rhythm in our heartbeats. Niall has pulled me atop his chest, arms loosely wrapped around me in a purely loving and protective manner. I nuzzle into Niall’s chest, feeling rather than hearing Niall’s erratic heartbeat.

 “Did y’ enjoy that?” Niall asks softly, fingers entangled in chocolate curls.

“Every second of it.”

“S’ y’ don’t regret it?”

“Nothing with you is regrettable. I love that you are not what people think of you. I love that you’re so carefree ninety-nine per cent of the time. I adore your cute little smile and your loud laughter. Your tattoos are all meaningful and I love tracing them with my fingers endlessly. Your taste in music leaves some more to be desired but also at the same time, it’s fun when we’re singing along to the occasional Pink Floyd song on the radio. Whenever you pick up your guitar, your eyes shine extra bright and I just want to kiss you ‘til there’s no air left in your lungs.

But I love you for being you the most.”

 

 

★

 

 

 

In the morning, I wake to the sensation of Niall’s warm embrace. I can vaguely remember taking a quick shower with Niall and collapsing onto the bed afterwards. A smile creeps up my face as he recalls last night. Last night has been the best night of his life, period.

 And I hope to have many more coming up.

  Niall squirms in his sleep, and I know that my boyfriend is about to wake up. So I reach down to angle Niall’s face up so I can kiss him awake, like something out of a fairy tale.

 Blue eyes blink open and meet my green. A warm, genuine smile spreads out over Niall’s soft pink lips. He kisses back even before his eyes are completely opened.

 “Mornin’,” he whispers.

“Morning,” I whisper back

 We continue to kiss for a sweet while, the sun growing brighter outside the thick curtains. With an exaggerated sigh, Niall pushes himself up and flips me over, nosing the column of my sun-flushed neck and humming a nameless tune.

 “Breakfast,” he mumbles, and his stomach growls supportively.

“I’ll make you a fry-up as usual.”

 

 

 

★

 

 

 

We get dressed (eventually) and head out the front door. Niall needs to start shopping for his backpacking trip throughout Europe and I have graciously agreed to help him out. With Niall’s carefree attitude, he is bound to miss the important stuff like maps and toothpastes, I’m sure of that.

 We, still basking in the afterglow, have barely stepped inside the Tesco’s when someone tenses up and breathes out a loud, pain-filled, “Fuck.”

 Niall’s head snaps up from where our hands are intertwined.

 

 “Fuck,” he echoes.


	10. Chapter 10

 

“Niall?” a deeply accented voice calls out.

 “Zayn,” Niall replies coolly, warmth sucked out of his ocean blue orbs.

 Sensing the unspoken history between them, I start to back-step my way out of the Tesco’s.

 “Please. Stay,” Niall barks out an order.

 And I freeze. There is so much anger and underlying violence that is swimming underneath the surface of his carefree personality.

 “What are you doing here?” Niall grinds out, his words barely audible even though I have regained my place right net to him.

“Same thing as you: grocery shopping. I see that you must be getting ready for that Europe trip that you’ve been talking about for so long.”

“That I am.”

 It feels like there is a cold breeze blowing between him and Niall. Hell has just frozen over, I believe.

 After a long beat, Niall says: “You know what I meant earlier, Zayn.” his words are like a verbal slap. “Last time we met was in, oh I don’t know, three years ago in some small town in Yorkshire. Your hometown where I was workin’ at ‘nother coffee shop, I believe.”

 My heart drops. I thought he moved here. At least, when he said that he moved here he hadn’t specified the ‘here’ clearly. He must have meant here as in the broad whole as in England, and not Holmes Chapel. Of course Holmes Chapel wasn’t his first choice. It’s a hick town where everyone knows everyone; I know the headmaster’s first name and when we see each other on the streets, we call each other by first name. And the town sheriff knows me too (and no, it’s not because I got into trouble, trust me—okay my mate were caught skinny dipping at the school rooftop pool at midnight and I was kind of naked too).

 “It’s a short stop on my long trek around England and Scotland. Been travelling all over the place for the past year. I was supposed to go off to college to get my English degree and start teaching at a local comprehensive school but then my family won a lottery and indulged me.”

“Yeah. Tricia told me.”

“You kept in touch with my mum but not me?” Zayn asks, looking like a wounded possum.

“She’s the one who first wanted t’ keep in touch with me, and I couldn’t say a final goodbye t’ her.”

 Zayn’s eyes turn towards the floor. “I never got to say goodbye to you.”

“If you really loved me, y’ would’ve found me and never let me go until you either changed me mind or said the goodbye t’ me.”

The other lad finally looks up. “Then don’t let me go now.”

 

I think I know how Jacob felt in Twilight series now. As much as I love Nialler and he loves me, Zayn will always be the first guy that Niall ever loved. For me, Niall is the first person that I’ve ever loved, right down to the soul-deep level. And I thought that we had a good future laid out for us. It may not have been marble staircases and diamond-studded crowns, but it was our future. We could have gone off to continental Europe and set off on our own journey, Paris being our first city. We could have done the cliché romance-novel thing and dined at the top viewpoint of the Eiffel Tower while looking over the twilit city of love. Then at Spain, we could have watched the bullfight and taken a flamenco dance and laughed our bums off because neither of us can dance to save our lives.

 But now, it’s all ashes and wine.

 “Have you ever thought of how I was tired of feelin’ alone long before I left?” Niall snaps.

“Why in the world would you feel alone?” Zayn looks and sounds genuinely confused.

 If looks could kill, Zayn would be about ten times dead by now, give or take a couple times.

 “The last months before I left, you were always out partyin’, which confused the shite out of me since you never even liked to go out in the first place. Then rumours started t’ go ‘round that you were seen gettin’ up and personal with Perrie, that chick who had a girl band with her mates. Some of me true friend showed me photographic proof that you kissed her, even! Proper on the lips, mind you. How was I s’posed to react to that, huh? You tell me, Zayn. Please do tell me.”

 By the end of his rant, Niall’s blue eyes are shining with unshed tears. They look borderline miserable and furious, a dangerous combination.

 Zayn takes a slow, deliberate step forward and things go downhill from there. Fast and steep.

 His arm is raised as if he wants to touch Niall and Niall has already made up his mind that he doesn’t want that. In the blink of an eye, he has yanked on Zayn’s arm to propel him forwards and land a solid punch to his model-high cheekbone. Then Niall tackles him to the ground and presses his face daringly close to Zayn’s. “Trust me, this is not even the slightest of the pain I’d felt since you left me like that. Y’ don’t know what it’s like t’ feel completely alone and empty, d’ya? What it feels like t’ hit the lowest of the rock-bottom and have no choice but to fuckin’ stay there; not because y’ want t’ but because y’ dunno how the fuck you’re s’posed to get back up. It’s a real work in progress, I can guarantee ya that. And the worst part: no one fuckin’ noticed. Not my Ma, or my Pa, or even Greg. Not a fucking person!” Niall slings his arm back and I realise that he’s about to pummel Zayn’s face into the ground.

 “Niall no!” I shout, grabbing him and hauling him away from Zayn. A crowd has already begun to gather around us and the last thing we need right now is to create a huge scene and get authority involved. With both of them of age (probably?) they might spend a night or two in jail! “He’s not worth it.”

 Niall’s blue eyes dial down in their fury; he doesn’t look all that pleased with my outburst. What does he do? He turns on me.

 “You’ve no business with me an’ Zayn, Harry. This is strictly between what happened in his and me past.” His words are barely above a growl.

I stand my ground. “If it involves you, then it’s my business. I love you and I meant it with my whole heart when I told you that.”

“It doesn’t matter who y’ love. It’s still me business!”

 

With that, he shoves at me roughly and sprints out of the store, leaving me bewildered and utterly betrayed.

 

 

★

 

 

 

_ **Niall's P.O.V.** _

 

The moment that I hear Zayn’s voice, I know that this isn’t going to end well.

 “Zayn,” I reply. Even I can tell that my voice has gone cold.

 Harry takes a step back.

 “Please. Stay,” I say to Harry, wincing mentally at how commanding I sound. He’ll forgive me soon, that’s something I can count on.

 “What are you doing here?” I ask Zayn quietly, not wanting to chance Harry hearing exactly what Zayn and I have to say to each other.

“Same thing as you: grocery shopping. I see that you must be getting ready for that Europe trip that you’ve been talking about for so long.”

“That I am.” I glare at him.

 After some time, I say to Zayn, “You know what I meant earlier, Zayn. Last time we met was in, oh I don’t know, three years ago in some small town in Yorkshire. Your hometown where I was workin’ at ‘nother coffee shop, I believe.”

“It’s a short stop on my long trek around England and Scotland. Been travelling all over the place for the past year. I was supposed to go off to college to get my English degree and start teaching at a local comprehensive school but then my family won a lottery and indulged me.”

“Yeah. Tricia told me.”

“You kept in touch with my mum but not me?” Zayn asks, looking like a wounded baby animal of some sorts.

“She’s the one who first wanted t’ keep in touch with me, and I couldn’t say a final goodbye t’ her.”

 Zayn’s eyes are downcast as he speaks his next words. “I never got to say goodbye to you.”

“If you really loved me, y’ would’ve found me and never let me go until you either changed me mind or said the goodbye t’ me.” I retort

He looks up. “Then don’t let me go now.”

 “Have you ever thought of how I was tired of feelin’ alone long before I left?” I finally snap.

“Why in the world would you feel alone?” Zayn looks confused. Fuckin’ actor.

 “The last months before I left, you were always out partyin’, which confused the shite out of me since you never even liked to go out in the first place. Then rumours started t’ go ‘round that you were seen gettin’ up and personal with Perrie, that chick who had a girl band with her mates. Some of me true friend showed me photographic proof that you kissed her, even! Proper on the lip, mind you. How was I s’posed to react to that, huh? You tell me, Zayn. Please do tell me.”

 I haven’t even realised that my eyes had begun to tear up. I do my best to fight them; I’ll be damned if I cry in front of him above all people.

 Zayn takes a slow step towards me. So I react without thinking.

 I yank on Zayn’s lifted arm to propel him towards me and punch his stupidly gorgeous cheekbone. Then straddle him down on the ground and lean in until my face is daringly close to Zayn’s. “Trust me, this is not even the slightest of the pain I’d felt since you left me like that. Y’ don’t know what it’s like t’ feel completely alone and empty, d’ya? What it feels like t’ hit the lowest of the rock-bottom and have no choice but to fuckin’ stay there; not because y’ want t’ but because y’ dunno how the fuck you’re s’posed to get back up. It’s a real work progress, I can guarantee ya that. And the worst part: no one fuckin’ noticed. Not my Ma, or my Pa, or even Greg. Not a fucking person!” I get meself ready to pummel him into the ground.

 “Niall no!” Harry shouts, grabbing me and directing me away from Zayn. “He’s not worth it.”

 “You’ve no business with me an’ Zayn, Harry. This is strictly between what happened in his and me past.” I growl at him.

“If it involves you, then it’s my business. I love you and I meant it with my whole heart when I told you that,” he insists.

“It doesn’t matter who y’ love. It’s still me business!”

 With that, I shove at him roughly and sprint out of the store.

 I kick the bike kickstand off the ground and upright it. I barely remember to wear the helmet before I rev off into the streets.

 Traffic in Holmes Chapel is nothing compared to the notorious London traffic, but it still is more than what I’m used to from Mullingar. Weaving in and out of the busy streets is loads easier on a bike, less space and all. With the tears streaming down my face in full force now, my vision is less than stellar. Already, the median is a blur and the cars are little more than passing blobs of flashing colours.

 There is a loud screech of tires and blaring horns.

 And then silence.

 

 

★

 

 

 

It’s floaty. No, I should say that I feel floaty, shouldn’t I? Floaty, fuzzy and cold. Huh, why am I cold.

 “’Cause you’re not quite dead yet,” a familiar voice says.

 I realise that I’m stood in the middle of a dark tunnel. At the end, there is a bright light and a figure is slowing walking towards me. Each step he takes echoes sharply in the confined space. This is bizarre. I’m very claustrophobic and I’ve always hated tunnels or any narrow spaces, basically. The closer he gets, the brighter the light gets, making it harder for me to see who the hell he is.

 Only when he is right in front of me do I see his face.

 He is me.

 

But younger?

 

“What the fuck is this?”

“You tell me,” he smirks, shrugging his shoulders.

 He—the Other Me—looks like I did four, five years ago. He has the bad bleach-job and the crooked smile that I never minded that much. He is wearing a plaid shirt that I think I once wore three days straight—without really washing it. Unless you count dousing it with Axe as washing, that is. The jeans crotch is down halfway to his knees and the shoes he is wearing are scruffed and slightly too-big combat boots. I forget how ridiculous the footwear trends were back then. The sleeves are rolled up to his elbows, baring his tattoo-less arms in plain sight. I really used to be a hairless baby, wow.

 “Are you done reminiscing your youth or d’ ya want me to shut up for one more mo?”

“I’m good, no thanks. What’re you supposed to be anyways?”

“Think of me as your very own Ghost of Christmas Past but cuter and Irish. And smilier,” he flashes me a smile to prove himself true.

“Uh-huh.” I scowl slightly. “Are ya gonna show me me future number one and future number two?”

 Other-Me throws back his head and laughs. “Sadly, this ain’t no movie. It’s more real-lifelike ‘n that. I’m here to talk some sense into that thick skull of yours. Or I’ll try.”

“Why am I even in this state? What happened t’ me?” I wonder out loud.

“Hmm, since I’m only like your conscience or summat, I don’t know. So. Harry. Let’s talk ‘bout him.” He promptly plots down onto the dirt ground of the tunnel. The lights dim dramatically.

 I gulp. This is so weird. Why is this happening to me?

 I try to remember what I remember last. Heh, that’ll be a challenge. The floaty feeling has subside, and it’s mostly fuzzy now. Ugh, my head hurts.

 The screeching noises . . . . Blaring sounds. . . .

 “I got hit by a car, didn’t I?” I ask no-one in particular.

“If that’s what you remember, than it must be what happened.”

“Only good reason for the pounding headache.” Now that I’m more aware of my physical state, I can feel the throbbing pain in my lower ribs as well. And my legs, mostly around my left knee. Of course, I would hurt the knee I’ve always dislocated. No surprise there.

 “Good, now that we’ve covered that, can we discuss Harry now? Y’know, the love of your life and all that cheesy romantic rainbows-and-unicorns things?”

“What is there t’ talk about him? He’s fuckin’ perfect t’ me.”

“You don’t see it, but I can see the flaws in him. He’s never had a boyfriend b’fore and he’s always unsure ‘bout you and him. ‘Us’, I guess. When you were shaggin’ he was half-scared and half-nervous right up until you pretty much literally kissed all the thoughts outta his brain. You might’ve felt how tense his muscles were and other signs but no, you were too busy tryna make it the best shag Harry has ever had.”

 I blush. My mouth is the only part of me that hasn’t changed; I’m not sure if I should be proud of me or not.

 “Still doesn’t change the fact that I love him to bits.”

“Ya love him enough to leave him hurt and confused just ‘cause ya met your ex in a convenience store. Heroic.”

 If I punch him in the mouth, would it hurt me?

 “Uh-oh, you have that murderous look on. You wanna punch me, don’t ya? I don’t think it should hurt ya if you do.”

“Um, so is that an indirect permission for me t’ punch you?”

“Hell no. Just an observation.”

 We sit in the silence for a while. I don’t know exactly what about Harry Other-Me wants to talk about. This is the epitome of awkwardness.

 If I punch him, will I wake up?

 I mean, the reason why I’m stuck here is because I was stupid enough to crash my bike and knock myself out, right? Unless the car or whatever was in the wrong, not me.

 Ouch. Okay, I probably should not breathe out too loudly.

 “How much longer ‘til I’m one-hundred-per-cent alive again?”

“Oh, dear Niall,” Other-Me smiles indulgently. “That is entirely up to you.”

 Sighing dramatically, I close my eyes. I want to sleep.

 

Sleep sounds like a grand idea now . . . .

 

 

★

 

 

There is a lot of sobbing. And wet sniffles. Either it’s allergy season or someone is bawling their eyes out.

 “Niall, pl-please open your eyes,” a thickly accented voice says. An English accent. Huh.

 Oh, it’s Harry.

 I want to open my eyes, I really do. But it’s like a thousand layers of duct tapes are keeping them shut and my arms are heavier than lead. There is some pressure around my fingers, and I feel that Harry’s fingers must be intertwined with mine. Both my hands are then lifted, soon brushed with a soft warmth that can only be Harry’s cherry-tinted lips. His curls are probably halfway quiffed-up like he has been doing recently. I wonder if he is wearing one of his many ripped-sleeve shirts.

 Clearly, I love him enough to remember every single feature without needing to see.

 But I really want to see his beautiful smile, no matter how sad it would be.

 It takes me inhuman effort of monstrous proportions but I manage.

 “Harry . . . .” I croak out. It sounds like a pathetic proper croak, coming out more as ‘Hair’

“Nialler?” he says immediately, so I snap my eyes to meet his. His green eyes do that glittering thing. “You’re alright.”

“Yeah . . . . feel like a monster truck ran me over and backed up t’ double-check,” I mumble, crossing my fingers that he can understand me.

“Well, an SUV did smash into your bike,” he says, relieved that I’m joking about.

“Damn. She was a fine bike.”

“She? Should I be jealous now?”

“Nothin’ t’ be jealous of. You’re the only one for me. Always.”

 The bed presses down with the added weigh of Harry on it. He kisses the top of my head, mindful of the bandage wrapped around my forehead. Oh, that’s aces. Maybe I’ll have ended up with a macho scar when I get out of the hospital. Ew, hospital food is supposed to be disgusting, isn’t it? The brush of Harry’s lips on my head feels nice, distracting me from the dull ache that is concentrated in my temples. There is a million layers of bandage around my torso and my left leg is hoisted up in a sling. How Harry magically kissed me without jostling any of my injuries or the jumble of machines I’m hooked up to will forever be a mystery to me.

“Kiss me like you wanna be loved?” I pout.

“You have a busted lip. Think your painkiller is settling in now if you can’t feel that.”

I flick out my tongue to feel the puffy and scratchy surface. Damn. I can still taste the blood.

“Can’t feel it. So you should kiss me. You’re magical.”

“Am I now?”

 He kisses the corner of my mouth chastely. “There. All better now?”

“Think so. ‘M sorry ‘bout running off on ya.”

“You and Zayn have history. That can’t be ignored.”

 He doesn’t say a thing for a long moment. Harry has a slow, sexy accent so it’s not so shocking when there are long pauses between his words or sentences.

 “Zayn was your first love.” He says it as a statement.

“Yes and no. I’d thought I loved him. I was wrong.”

“You were in love with him. Otherwise, you wouldn’t have punched him,” he reasons.

“But I’m in love with you.”

“I know.”

 

 

★

 

 

 

“Remember when I said that one of my guilty pleasures is country music?” Harry prompts, his head lightly resting on my shoulder.

“Yes,” I say, feeling sleepy

 It’s been a week in the hospital. Harry, being the world’s most brilliant and adorable boyfriend ever, has been bringing me junk food and Nando’s. Although, Nando’s is sort of in the junk food category with the Peri Peri chips and, well, all of their heavenly food. I’m strictly forbidden from eating any food that may contain caffeine so no coffee, tea or chocolate for me. The coconut butterscotch muffins from the hospital canteen are surprisingly good, though. Low fat and low carbs, of course. And just today I’ve been moved out of the intensive care unit. I’m also allowed to be off my sick bed to go anywhere other than the loo.

 To celebrate, we’ve been sitting in the courtyard, having taken a seat on a park bench slightly beneath a sycamore tree. I slide down so I can rest my head in his lap. His fingers automatically follow my head down to scratch at my scalp. I make a contented sound at the back of my head, nudging my head into his hand better. He chuckles.

 “I’ve been listening to Taylor Swift’s new album,” he trails off.

“Red?” I take a guess.

“The one and only. And there’s a song that I really like.”

“Cool.” I’m clueless as to where this is headed.

“And I wanna serenade you with it. It fits us really well.”

“G’ on, then. Serenade me. Oh I do wish that I’m stood on a balcony and you are amongst flowerbeds.” I flutter my eyelashes and make a show of swooning.

“Hush up.” He blushes.

 After clearing his throat a hundred times and sneaking glances at me, me gazes right into my eyes as he sings:

 

 

_‘Put your lips close to mine_   
_As long as they don't touch_   
_Out of focus, eye to eye_   
_Till the gravity's too much_   
_And I'll do anything you say_   
_If you say it with your hands_   
_And I'd be smart to walk away,_   
_But you're quicksand_

_This slope is treacherous_   
_This path is reckless_   
_This slope is treacherous_   
_And I, I, I like it_

_I can't decide if it's a choice_   
_Getting swept away_   
_I hear the sound of my own voice_   
_Asking you to stay_   
_And all we are is skin and bone_   
_Trained to get along_   
_Forever going with the flow,_   
_But you're friction_

_This slope is treacherous_   
_This path is reckless_   
_This slope is treacherous_   
_And I, I, I like it_

_Two headlights shine through the sleepless night_   
_And I will get you, and get you alone_   
_Your name has echoed through my mind_   
_And I just think you should, think you should know_   
_That nothing safe is worth the drive and I would_   
_Follow you, follow you home..._   
_I'll follow you, follow you home..._

_This hope is treacherous_   
_This daydream is dangerous_   
_This hope is treacherous_   
_I, I, I... I, I, I... I, I, I..._

_Two headlights shine through the sleepless night_   
_And I will get you, and get you alone_   
_Your name has echoed through my mind_   
_And I just think you should, think you should know_   
_That nothing safe is worth the drive and I will_   
_Follow you, follow you home..._   
_I'll follow you, follow you home..._   
_I'll follow you, follow you home..._   
_I'll follow you, follow you home..._

_This slope is treacherous_   
_I, I, I like it’_

 

“That was perfect. You’re perfect!” I say, pulling his head down for a kiss. He comes down willingly and kisses me. Now that the bandage around my head has come off and there’s gauze taped over my bruised rib, Harry deigns to kiss me. My leg is in an air-cast, not a full-on cast that is the size of a child, but still. I feel less like a plastic ogre, too.

“You’re the one who’s perfect, babe,” he argues.

“Let’s agree that we’re both perfect then. Perfect for each other.” I say, kissing him again.

“Okay.”

 

 

★

 

 

 

“Nervous?” Harry asks.

“Not really. ‘M glad that I convinced to ya come with me.” I admit.

“Me too.”

 The boarding call for Paris echoes in the airport. I squeeze his hand and smile up at him.

 We pick up our carry-ons and step into the terminal. Through the panelled windows, I catch the glimpses of the plane we’re taking, backlit against the setting sun.

 It’s like a typical fairy tale ending: we’re riding out to our happily-ever-after into the sunset, flying in our case.

 Taylor’s right. Nothing safe is worth the drive and we should always take risks.

 

 Like Harry did with me.

 

 


End file.
